


Last Kiss

by heyerruh



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-05
Updated: 2011-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-19 00:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyerruh/pseuds/heyerruh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The snow is smooth, white and cold to the touch, and a huge reminder of how empty my life is at the moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://lichtuitmixa.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**lichtuitmixa**](http://lichtuitmixa.dreamwidth.org/) , I hope you love this and that I posted it for you! [](http://valress.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**valress**](http://valress.dreamwidth.org/) , I hope this somehow meets your expectations. [](http://sbb23.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**sbb23**](http://sbb23.dreamwidth.org/) did great work in shaping this thing up so any of the mistakes you could still see here are mine! Also, title comes from Taylor Swift’s song, _Last Kiss_.

**ADAM**

The snow is smooth, white and cold to the touch, and a huge reminder of how empty my life is at the moment. Everything hurts and anything I look at is a stark reminder of everything I’ve lost. I can’t even explain how I’m feeling.

It started when I looked out the window of my cabin but then I found myself outside lying on the snow. The feeling that comes with falling in love also comes with the unmistakable feeling of your heart breaking into a million pieces.

I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I feel like if more shit happens, I’ll laugh, and if something goes well, I’ll probably burst into tears. In my mind, I’m on a road to a bottomless pit, and I somehow think that in it I’ll find all my regrets mixed in with all my hopes and desires for the future. Everything in front of me seems so lackluster and lifeless, even my dreams are in black and white, so different from their usual explosions of color.

The only color in my life right now is the blue and red tartan shirt squeezing my upper body. I can’t understand how much one piece of clothing makes everything around me seem so dead. I can’t understand why I feel like wearing it. _Who am I kidding? It smells like him._ It reminds me so much of who left me. Finding this piece of clothing inside the closet by the door caused me to stop being so controlled about things and I allowed myself to be stupid, wretched and broken. It’s easier when no one is around to watch you fall apart. I have no recollection of how I got out here or why I’m here in clothes that are inappropriate for cold weather. Leather pants, a wife-beater and a tartan shirt will never be conducive to keeping in body warmth. Going out barefoot was even more stupid. I just stand out here, not knowing what to do, feeling nothing and everything at the same time. Kneeling in the snow while smelling the shirt would have been too cinematic for a real life experience. On the other hand, wearing the shirt and wishing it were the arms of the one you loved, _still love,_ so much is just the right amount of drama with a dash of pathetic on the side.

The people who don’t know us well said we’re too different from each other, and right now I’m starting to believe them. Trying not to cry due to the onslaught of color and smell, I silently wonder how someone so quietly reserved, laidback and essentially _good_ could miss someone too open, obnoxiously noisy and crazy. _If he missed me, it would mean he’d want to be around me. Wanting to be around me would mean not leaving me._ Reasoning with myself as I slowly go insane from the hurt is just another step on the drama/pathetic front. Nothing new there. Standing up, heading inside and changing my clothes while wishing for better days is practical.

It’s better than heading inside and simply crying myself to sleep.

  
 **KRIS**

“Why’d you do it?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“I’ve known you for years and you have never been this deliberately obtuse but since it’s probably too hard for you to even start thinking about what you’ve done, I’ll point it out. _Why’d you walk away from him, Mr. Laidback A—hole?_ ” They hurt, the words coming out of Allison’s mouth, and yet I can’t find the strength to get mad at her for them or to even retaliate. She’s right.

“Just because you’re older now doesn’t mean you’re mature. Stop calling me names, Alli-cat.”

“Answer the question or I’m not talking to you for years. Silent treatment is reserved for all ages.” Again, she’s right but I wouldn’t want her to not talk to me. Sometimes, honesty is better than anything else. If only I could do the same when it comes to Adam.

“I, well, uhm, I—I wasn’t sure where we were going, okay? I didn’t know if I was getting into a relationship for keeps now. Things could just change, and we’d grow apart, and I didn’t want to see that happening.”

 _“How could you not trust him, Kris? Has he not showed enough times what he’d do for you?”_ The redness of her face reminds me of the hair she used to have, fiery red and stunning. Her now black hair balanced with colorful highlights makes her more beautiful, mature-looking and yet playful. She’s really mad and I understand. She loves Adam the same way she loves me but they’ve had a bond stronger than hers and mine. I don’t fault her for blaming me immediately. She’s not wrong to think that it’s my fault.

“You don’t get it, Alli. _I don’t trust myself._ ” Surprising, I know but, well. Honesty.

“Oh, _Dios mio_. Why?”

“If I could break my vows because I fell in love with someone who wasn’t my wife, who says I wouldn’t do the same thing to the person I left her for? He doesn’t deserve that from me.”

“Okay then. Since I don’t know what to say to that, let’s go dance, Kris. We need to have fun tonight. It’s the only time I’ll be in L.A. for the next month and I’m leaving for New York tomorrow. Remember? Come on!”

“I’m not much for dancing. Not anymore.”

I’ve learned how to gyrate my body to the beat of the music in clubs like these. I had to and it was easy to just let myself go with Adam. We had this thing where he’d hug me from behind and help me dance with his body pressed to mine. It was a really cheesy position but it helped me. Feeling out-of-place in crowds like the ones we used to party with was a common occurrence for me. I’d stand by the bar, trying not to look like I could think of other places I’d have appreciated more, while Adam would be walking around and strutting his stuff. Knowing everyone and getting to talk to them was an Adam thing. He knew how much I disliked being left alone but I didn’t hate it enough to make him stay with me. He’d watch me while dancing with boys prettier and sparklier than me and he’d wink every time they’d try grabbing him. His sense of loyalty and attachment was a thing to behold. Teasing them and then loving me were his hobbies of choice. I’d roll my eyes at his antics, knowing that whatever he did, he’d still be mine and only mine.

At that time, I didn’t know how much that scared me.

  
 **ADAM**

The last time I was committed to someone, it was with Brad. We broke up in the end but it allowed us to build a better friendship than our relationship ever was. My friendship with Kris is beautiful and stunning in all the ways our relationship is. _Was._ It’s so hard for me to get over the fact that it’s over, probably due to the fact that this time, this relationship, this milestone in my life was so _damn important_ and I’m not ready for it to end. There was no asking me to sit down and talk. There were no fights that had us shouting and screaming at each other or even frowning and crying. Everything was perfect until Kris left me.

I liked to think that he would never lie to me. I believed everything Kris would tell me.

 _I’m overwhelmed by how much I love you, Adam. Some days I just look into your blue eyes and I feel like I have the world at my feet when you look back at me. You sing me sweet love songs and I don’t know what else to do besides place my face near your throat and feel the vibrations of your voice while silently thanking the Universe for making you love me… I know it’s unfair of me to tell you this while you sleep but it’s the only time I can find the words to tell you how I feel. It’s the only time I’m sure that you’ll stay with me because you’re here. Beside me. Always. With me._

I believed Kris then in his state of post-coital non-sleep.

I decided that I shouldn’t have when I woke up at two in the morning to a cold bed and the feeling of being watched .

  
 **KRIS**

“Kristopher Neil. I thought you’d be scared to even darken my doorstep.”

“You’re my best option, Thomas Joseph. I have to brave _your_ storm.”

“Don’t call me that and to do what exactly?”

“To—to—to ask. About Adam.” Well, damn. Stammering in front of Tommy is the biggest mistake I can make.

“Oh baby. I thought you stopped caring?” Making nice with Tommy is difficult when he decides that he isn’t going to make nice in return.

“I’d never.”

“Then why’d you leave him?” Well, isn’t that the question of the century?

“Aren’t you even going to invite me inside for this conversation? Sunny L.A. isn’t an apt background for my upcoming breakdown.”

“Kris, I love you, you’re my pet. We all love you but you _broke_ him, are still _breaking_ him, something you promised you’d never even think of doing.” Tommy Joe’s light tone becomes more serious with every word. I know I’d made a big mistake when even Tommy’s disappointed with me. His anger would be easier to handle. “I need to know that whatever we talk about inside would even matter in the long run. If asking about Adam is just part of your own therapy to forgive yourself or whatever fuck you think you’re doing then I think you have to go.” Tommy continues.

“I—I just wanted to ask how he is. What he looks like. What he’s been doing. Has he been eating or did I cause him to go on a _diet_ again? Everything about him since—since I left.” I hope that’s what Tommy Joe wants to hear. I should stop repeating syllables. It’s embarrassing.

“I think you should go, Kris.” Tommy starts pushing the door closed.

“Where he is. I want to know where he is. _I hope it’s nice where he is._ God, Tommy, I miss him so much.” Pulling the door open, Tommy grabs me and pulls me inside.

Tommy’s nails are sharp and they scratch me through my thin black V-neck but all I can think of is how much I deserve the small amount of pain from TJ due to the huge mistake I committed; besides, it’s just Tommy Joe. I can handle Tommy Joe. Probably.

“HEY YOU GUYS! Look what Daddy Kitty dragged in.”

“Oh God, Thomas Joseph, don’t tell me you have the whole troupe in your living room.” I can take them, one at a time. All of them at the same time, that’s something I don’t think I can handle. And stay alive. And sane.

“Oh Kristopher Neil, I didn’t tell you. And remember, Alli-cat’s always been as sneaky as her Daddy Kitty. Get yo’ ass in there, pet.” Tommy’s cackling and I should be scared. Very scared. So very scared. Yet I’m not.

I’d do this any day. To fix myself. To be deserving of Adam.

  
 **ADAM**

There’s only so much cold a person can take. I’ve been in the cabin for months now and it’s nearing January already. Nearly half a year since Kris left me and I can’t bring myself to leave. Some parts still smell of Kris and if staying is the only way to surround myself with Kris’ smell then I’ll stay for as long as I can.

Sometimes, I go around the cabin, sniffing every surface, searching for any sign that Kris was there. I actually found an old beanie of Kris’ hidden inside a drawer in the kitchen. _Dear God, Lambert. Your scary dog genes are showing._ Talking to myself helps, but nothing beats thinking of better days. I’ve always been a Californian at heart, loving the sun and basking in its heat even though it makes my freckles more pronounced. I only learned to love the snow when I experienced it with Kris.

Kris. Where could Kris be right now? Apparently, leaving me was not enough cause for me to stop caring where my brown-haired, brown-eyed ex-lover is. Or how he is. Who he’s with. I have so many questions and yet I don’t have the answers to any of them. In situations like this, I can only think. Imagine. Hope. Wish.

 _Kris is probably be in L.A. It’s probably dry and sunny there but with the clouds covering the scorching sun and allowing the weather to be comfortable and not at all stifling to anyone walking around. He’s probably living his life without me and he’d be okay. He’d be happy. He’d be free. He wouldn’t leave me if he were happy with me, right? Why would he stay with someone so controlling and demanding? He’s probably found someone not as high maintenance and not as moody. He’d be there, smiling. Laughing. Scrunching his face at his new love. Kris probably wouldn’t compare me to his new lover. He’s not the type to do that but I’d probably do it if I were there. I’d walk near them and say ‘hi’ to Kris. I’d be friendly and he’d remember how we started. How good we were. How perfect we were with each other. I’d wear the ring he bought for me, the platinum band with snowflake patterns and diamonds. A perfect mix of me and him. He’d remember all the plans we made. The family house in L.A. that we’d build. The day of our marriage. The number of children we’d adopt. How we’d grow old together. We planned so much. I believed in all of it._

I never planned on him changing his mind.

  
 **ADAM**

The ringing of my phone disturbs my musings. It really surprises me that when I look at the screen, I see my dad’s goofy face.

“Dad?” I answer tentatively.

“Hey, son. How’s the snow?” My dad sounds jovial. Good for him.

“Cold. Cold. Wet. Hmm. Cold.”

“Well. You’re feeling wordy today. Fine then. Small talk, done. How are you, Adam?”

“Don’t feel like talking about it, dad.” I’m already going insane tumble-turning the thoughts in my head. Repeating these mixed thoughts to my dad probably wouldn’t help as much.

“Adam.” Oops. Stern voice. Honesty it is then.

“I miss him, Dad.”

“There you go. Would talking about him help?”

“I don’t want to remember how I felt when he left me. I’m sorry.”

“Then remember how you were. Before all this. Good memories. You probably have some?” My dad sounds tentative, probably unsure of what to say to me.

“I have no idea where to start. There’s just so many.” He sighs.

“I’ll start then. Hmm, I admired the way he shook my hand when you reintroduced us after you two finally got together.”

“Oh gosh, dad. He was so nervous then. I mean he’d already met you before and shit but he didn’t know how you’d take to him as my boyfriend. He kept saying he wanted to be perfect in your eyes,” I say, almost letting myself drown in the memory but then, “How was his handshake?” I’m curious.

“Steady. Firm. With conviction. It was like he was on a mission and I think he succeeded?” My dad is trying so hard to be all chill and stuff. We don’t really talk about these things.

“I loved him for that, for wanting your approval. I love those hands. I miss those hands.”

“What about them?” He keeps plying me with questions, giving me direction as to what to talk about. I appreciate it but I don’t want him feeling uncomfortable about this. About me.

“Dad, this isn’t something you usually want to hear.”

“Just go and talk, Adam. I’m listening. I want to know. I’m okay. I promise.” Oh well. I tried. I’m really in no mood to argue.

“He has rough hands. With callouses. But they’re gentle with me. When he touches me, I just feel how much he cares. Cared. Whatever. It used to annoy me how he’d hide his hands by walking with them in his pockets.” It was adorable, _really_.

“Used to?”

“Yeah. I used to find it annoying. It was adorable. Plus I’m possessive. I loved how he only liked walking with them out if it meant I’d hold onto one of them.”

“That’s sweet, Adam. You learned to love the things you used to find annoying.” Dad’s still trying but this is getting awkward.

“Dad, to tell you honestly, I kind of expected mom to be the one doing the comforting.”

“Change has come?” And now he’s laughing and quoting my song. Amazing. “Continue, Adam.”

“I don’t know what else I could say.”

“We were talking about annoyances. Anything you could connect from that?”

“He has this thing. He likes kissing me when I’m talking to someone. Like, I’d be really into the conversation, you know? Arms flailing, facial expressions, lotsa words, the whole shebang. Then he’d come with this innocent face, step up to me and pull me down for a kiss.” It was irritating. It had a tendency to make me forget everything but Kris.

“Son, information.”

“You asked, dad. I answered.” I can’t help but laugh. This talking thing with my dad is helping.

“If it’s so annoying though, why remember it? Why’s it the one that came to mind?” Questions. Embarrassing questions. I can’t answer them without sounding like a girl to my father.

“Nothing. Just a random thought. I gotta go and clean up, dad. Thanks for calling. Bye.” I end the call as fast as I can.

I liked those kisses. They were spontaneous. New. Possessive. _Loving_. Funny. Hot. Passionate. Us. Just us, connected _just to each other_ in a room full of people. Dad has me remember us. Vivid images of Kris and myself among the crowd with not a care in the world. I’m starting to remember everything I’ve tried so hard to ignore and I’m failing miserably because everything hurts again and now I’m longing for the feeling of the snow against my back.

I had to say goodbye to my father. I just didn’t know if I’d be able to explain _how much I miss Kris’ rude interruptions_.

  
 **KRIS**

I don’t know if I should be happy, sitting here in Tommy’s apartment surrounded by the people who love Adam the most. Yes, I love these people, too. They make Adam happy but I don’t. The last thing I ever did to Adam was leave him in our cabin with memories of a good relationship. These people know. No one had told them but they understood it when I came back to my L.A. apartment with my things and no Adam. Adam never came back, and I had never tried reaching Adam.

“I don’t get you, Pocket Idol. Why’d you even think of leaving His Highness?” Brad’s speaking calmly with his voice sounding like honey and yet I could hear that he doesn’t like me much now. He doesn’t look like he’d punch me, though. Not really. Brad doesn’t pull punches. He bitchslaps and kicks ass with blunt words of honesty and a raised eyebrow while lying on the couch with his head on Cassidy’s lap. He looks bored.

“You wouldn’t understand, Brad. Even I don’t understand what I did. All I know is that I was stupid and the middle of the night just added to my fears, I guess. It’s hard to explain.” I’m feeling wary but I need their help. I tried asking my questions but nobody was forthcoming with the answers that I wanted.

“You know, pet, all we’re asking for you to do is to _try_.” Tommy beside me with his arm on my shoulder. I lean on him and he runs his fingers through my hair. Being a tactile human being, I respond to his touch. He gives me a knowing look when I almost arch into it.

“You’re made for long term relationships, Kris darling. What the hell is scaring you?” Leave Sutan to be blunt about my issues. He’s never scared of voicing his thoughts and he’s always so sweet and warm about it. It’s comforting to know that some of Adam’s friends still find it in their hearts to care about me.

I’ve talked to myself about this a lot already. I know the answer. I know it in my heart but I don’t know how to deal with it. I guess it’s time to be honest. If I tell them, they’ll either help me or push me away. I don’t know any other way to go about things. So here goes. “I’m scared of working so hard on our relationship, giving him everything that I can and him doing the same and _then having it die in the end_ , okay?” Well, that was a huge load right there but I’m not done yet. “I don’t trust myself. I don’t know how to trust myself with Adam. He’s lovable and amazing. Passionate. Open with me. He’s given me everything I ever asked for and I’m trying to do the same but _my relationship with Katy_ started like that. We were okay, we were good with each other, but it ended. How am I so sure that I wouldn’t do that to Adam?”

Wow. Really wordy today, Kris. I think I surprise everyone in the room.

“Well, I expected that. Kind of. The outburst, I mean.” Monte has been silent all this time and when he talks, he manages to disagree with my thoughts.

“What you have to understand, Kris, is that Adam loves you because you’re _YOU_. You’re human. You make mistakes. You’re not perfect. You’re not ideal.” Brad’s almost falling asleep. I think the only thing keeping him up is the fact that for someone so fond of the dark as Tommy Joe, his apartment is really bright. His words hurt a bit.

“Thanks, Brad. Now I know you think I’m not worth Adam.” I pout but I don’t really take his words seriously. I know he’s about to make a point and I’m just mouthing off because I’m so nervous.

“The drama doesn’t suit you, honey. The point that Bradley here is leading to is that Adam loves you just the same even though you’re all those things. He knows you. Loves you for who you are.” Sutan’s still speaking calmly and carding his fingers through Tommy’s hair. That’s one couple I never expected to see, but look at them now. Tommy Joe’s straight had no chance against Raja’s sexy pout.

“He trusts you to talk to him and tell him when you’re having these feelings. He trusted you to stay. You have to trust yourself. Make a leap of faith.” Monte’s hitting where it hurts now. His words are right on target and he delivers his message with certainty and a bit of advice. He’s smiling at me, though, and I think I’m doing well if Monte’s readily talking to me.

“Okay, then. We’re getting weepy here so I think it’s time for final advice lines and then we’re going to go to The Grove and just have fun okay? Since Monte’s given his--?” Brad pauses and starts again after Monte’s nod. “Okay, go Cassidy, you’re next.” Brad’s suddenly up and alive again.

“Trust yourself. Trust him. Love him. If the universe thinks you’re meant to be, it will help you get him back and stay together. Forever, if that’s what you want.” Cassidy offers.

“Look inside yourself, sweetheart. See what you can give him and what you can do for him. Bitch around a bit if you have to, but run back to him. I’ll dress you if you want me to.” I got a smirk from Tommy when Sutan said that. I should probably be scared. Sutan’s offering to dress me in drag. I’d look horrible, I think.

“Go get him, pet.” Tommy really doesn’t speak much. It’s either because that’s the only advice he thinks I needs or it’s because Sutan has his head on his lap. I miss Adam.

“You guys still haven’t told me where to find him.” I sound sulky. I’m getting frustrated.

“Just take a trip and fall into the snow, Kris.” He sounded like he was giving a hint. Wait. _Snow._

“Adam hasn’t left the cabin?” It figured though. He’d sulk and mourn in a place where he knew I’d find him.

“You thought he’d risk having you take longer to get back to him? Not a chance. Now I think we should go.” Cassidy is still talking and already Brad was pulling him towards the door. Everyone else is starting to stand and get ready to leave when Monte’s phone rings.

“Yes, Lane?” Monte’s eyebrows suddenly shoot up. He ends the call as abruptly as he’d answered it.

When he gets his composure, he looks at me.

“Kris, time to fly to your cabin and get Adam back to L.A.”

“That’s what I’m planning to do, Monte. I’m starting the planning tomo—“

“There’s no time for that, Kris. You need to get there now.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Weather reports say that a blizzard’s coming towards it. You have to get Adam out of there.”

“Oh fuck.”

I run.

  
 **ADAM**

The snow outside is piling up on the ground and somehow I don’t care. I’m inside, unlike I was earlier today, but a more impractical and emotionally dying part of me wants to get up and get out. Get lost in the snow. Sink too deep and maybe start by finding it difficult to see in the snow and end by not breathing at all. Anything would be better than feeling this incomplete, this sad, and this useless. I feel like I should be somewhere else, in another time as well as in another place. Probably another state of mind. Another state of being. I should be in Los Angeles, last year, when we first got together. I shouldn’t be numb or trying to be. I should be happy and vibrant. In love and complete. I should be that person again, the Adam that was in love with Kris. More importantly the Adam who _had_ Kris.

This Adam, who I am now, this isn’t who I want to be. This isn’t who I’m supposed to be but this is me now because Kris took a huge chunk of me when he left. He took the core, and I’m left with a donut that’s lost all its fluff. I know my metaphors are getting odder by the minute and I like them that way. I’ve always liked distracting things and right now I want to be distracted. To think about anything other than the fact that I don’t have Kris. That I’m alone in a cabin and I can’t find a reason to even try venturing out. Tears are flowing down my face and yet I don’t know how to stop them. I don’t want to, don’t see the point.

I promised that I would fight for _us_ , and I have, but this situation calls for a different kind of fighting, a different kind of fixing. This requires me to acknowledge that we’re over and that possibly talking to Kris would just put the last nail on the coffin, and I don’t want that. _Maybe if I don’t face it head on, if I don’t talk about it at all, it’ll go away. This will just be a bad dream, my worst nightmare, and my death. It’s not real. Please. Please. Don’t be real._ A small part of me is telling me to pack and leave, to go some place safer than a cabin that can be trapped by snow. I don’t want to leave the only thing I have left of Kris – his smell. I don’t know where else I can go and what else I can do without that anchor. I simply don’t know.

The snow outside is piling up on the ground and somehow I don’t care. I’m inside and in my head, I swear I can still hear the slow beat of Kris’ heart and I can still feel the rise and fall of his chest. I swear that inside my heart, I feel that as each snowflake falls on the ground, Kris forgets a little bit about me.

More tears flow down my face and I still don’t see the point in stopping them.

  
 **KRIS**

The last time I was committed to someone, before Adam, it was with Katy. For almost a decade, we were together, growing up and living together and just being part of each other’s lives. We had built everything we were around each other that when it ended, I was left not only gathering the pieces of the person I once was, but also trying to figure out who I was supposed to be without Katy. Adam was there; he helped me rebuild myself, find the person I could be on my own, and be okay with who I was.

It came as a surprise to me when Adam and I fell in love. While the whole world was telling us how perfect we were for each other, I was just doing my best to stay present; to be who Adam needed me to be. In my head, Adam needed a best friend and that was what I was… until I caught myself staring at Adam, dressed in black from head to toe in the snow beside his cabin. I was overwhelmed by how much sparklier Adam was than the snow. In that moment, I saw everything I’d ever wanted in my life, and I worked for it. Worked for Adam and got him. Adam gave himself to me and I to him. We were okay. We were happy and content.

And that’s what scared me. I was happy and content with Katy too until I wasn’t. Until I couldn’t find it in myself to settle for what we had, and I just had to leave her, leave _us_ , and search for the future I was meant to have. I was going to ask Adam to marry me that night, but then I saw how Adam’s eyes lit up at the mere sight of me, and how they seemed to lose just a little bit of their glow when he thought I was somewhere else in the cabin, and I got scared. _Because what if I made a mistake? What if I hurt Adam without meaning to? What if I suddenly felt unhappy with him and just upped and left him like I did with Katy?_ I’m not perfect and Adam deserved someone better than me. Adam deserved the world and I could only give him my heart and _what if that wasn’t enough?_ I’d given Katy a piece of my heart, so it was easy to live with the rest, _yes, the rest because I did love her and she did have some of me and no returns._ I didn’t want to do that to Adam. I didn’t want to ever see those eyes dull and flat, unseeing and just plain sad. I couldn’t take it.

I looked down at my lover, sleeping peacefully against my side and I just had to stand up. Walk away. Leave. I’d packed what fit in my backpack. I didn’t need everything. I needed to get away from Adam while I still could. I needed Adam to see how much I could hurt him, how unfeeling I could be because, I hoped Adam would think, if I could leave someone like Adam then I was probably just some asshole who pretended to have a heart, someone who just pretended to love him. If I could love him one second and leave him the next, then maybe he’d realize he deserved someone so much better than me, someone who deserved everything he gave, and gave him his everything in return.

I looked at the clock on the table beside the bed. 1:57. I couldn’t help but look back at Adam. Looking at his face, lit by the moonlight coming through the windows, Adam was sparkling. I allowed myself to stare for a moment. For what would be the last time. Not mine anymore. Shouldn’t be.

And then I left the best thing that ever happened to my life. 1:58.

  
 **ADAM**

The winds are howling outside, the tones they make as high as the glory notes I belt out when I have the willpower to reach them. The snow is high enough to reach the cabin’s porch, low enough that I can still probably manage to get out of the house, but too high and too cold for me to actually get anywhere if I venture out in it. In my loneliness, I know I can’t leave this cabin and if I try, this is probably the exact situation when someone, anyone, could and would die trying to escape. A while ago, I tried to be practical, to pack up my belongings and get myself ready to get away from here. I want to live. I have something to live for, if only to make other people happy with my music. _I can do what I love but I just can’t have whom I love. Is that enough?_

Wandering around the house, doing my final check before trying to leave, I tell myself I can check even our bedroom, the room where I felt Kris’ presence the most. Opening the door and seeing the bed, untouched from when we last used it, months ago, when I still had Kris, I thought that nothing changed. I don’t want to touch anything but I want things to be tidy, to look new so that maybe one day, when I come back to this place, I would be reminded of the happy events that happened here. Picking up the blanket that I had discarded the morning that my heart was broken, I was surprised to be bombarded with the faint smell of strawberries. I felt my eyes water because those strawberries, the ones we had that night, were the only witnesses to what had been our last kiss.

 _Adam had his back on the headboard, reading a thriller that a fan had recommended. Kris was sitting beside him, reading his own book and eating strawberries. They weren’t really talking, each too absorbed in their novels. The only thing that connected them was the thick blanket that they shared. When Adam got tired of reading, he stopped, took off his glasses and laid his book down. He extended his arm so that it was wrapped around Kris’ shoulder, allowing his lover to lean against him while he continued to read while sharing their body warmth. After a few pages, Kris put his own book down and picked up a strawberry and fed it to Adam. It wasn’t anything sensual, just Kris popping the strawberry into Adam’s mouth really, and yet while Adam closed his eyes and chewed on the fruit he had in his mouth, he felt Kris turn a little, wrapping his arms around his neck. He opened his eyes to Kris slanting his lips to his own. It was the soft languid pressure of lips on lips, no tongue, just sliding across each other, feeling warmth and a sense of **home** Kris radiated from the way he loved Adam with his mouth. Adam couldn’t help but just moan and as Kris pulled away, he couldn’t help but whisper his name in awe and with the strength of his love alone. **Kris.**_

The snow is on the porch now and I still allow myself to get lost in the sensations that the memory brings because in that kiss, I knew what we could’ve been, what we should still be if we were still together. The strength of the memory accompanied by the force of my sadness pushes me to just sit on what once was our bed and weep. If there were anyone around to even listen to me, they would hear Kris’ name on my lips.

Just like it was during our last kiss.

  
 **KRIS**

It’s not anything like the movies, the way I get to Adam. I don’t get there early, with a helicopter or with back up, like I have the world in the palms of my hands and I can just order these things around. But I also don’t get there _just in time_ or like right during the moment that the ‘damsel’ could’ve almost died or whatever with just a beat-up truck and myself with tears in my eyes. Nope, that’s not how I arrive at our cabin. I get there, as quietly as possible, with only minimum struggle as the snow piles up on the porch and near the door.

I hiked to the cabin when I saw the drifts across the road; I thought it’d be safer than slowly feeling the layers of snow swallowing up my car. Only a part of me concentrates on actually dodging any potential dangers as I trek towards where Adam was. Where he’s always been since I’d left him. The parts of me not concentrating on the trip had been coming up with possible scenarios for when I face Adam again. Out of the bazillion possibilities though, none of them seem realistic, like they could really happen, because each one has Adam taking me back and I can’t imagine how that could happen after what I did. While struggling with the door, I somehow come to the conclusion that if— _when_ —Adam rejects me after this, I’ll be okay with it because really, my main purpose is to come for Adam, and make sure he’s alright, and as soon as possible, help Adam out of the cabin and away from all this depressing snow.

None of the scenarios I’d thought of prepared me for the sight that greets me when I enter our bedroom. There Adam is, on the bed, his breaths ragged. He appears to be sobbing, his body tense and rocking back and forth, but no, sobbing requires loud noises and exaggeration, yet here Adam is, crying his heart out with no sound. It breaks my heart to see what I had caused, to be the reason that such a vibrant, loud and passionate man had been reduced to crying his heart out with only his own harsh breathing to keep him company. I don’t know what to do. Standing here and just watching won’t help Adam at all but I don’t know if I still have the right to actually go to him and touch him, hug him and show him that I’m back, that I love him and that I’m sorry for ever leaving him.

Somehow I overcome my fear of rejection and I walk to the bed, then crawl across it to Adam. I’ve almost reached him when Adam looks up, sees me and pulls me up and out of bed. My feet are unmoving and I’m trying to calm my breathing but I don’t know what to do with myself. Adam’s right there and I don’t know what to do. I feel a finger push my chin up and I see a set of brilliant blue eyes staring at me. I don’t expect the arms that wrap themselves around me or the lips that are brushing against my temple but I take every sensation in. I feel a million different things as I experience Adam’s hug. Love. Passion. Relief. Sadness. Desperation. It’s a mix of every single emotion I see in Adam’s eyes.

“Adam—.”

And now I get what I expected from Adam—a punch on the face and a glare meant to kill.

“You left me, Kris.”

“I know, Adam. I’m—.”

“Don’t apologize. Tell me why you left.” Adam’s whispering and I’m worried again, through my bleeding nose, that is, because Adam only ever whispers when he’s unsure not of me but of himself, his insecurities and fears rearing their ugly heads. Adam only ever whispers when he’s afraid that what he’s about to say will possibly push me away.

“Please don’t hate me for what I’m about to say, please.” I’m scared because what if Adam doesn’t accept my reason? What if what I’m about to say will make me lose him completely?

“I can’t promise you that, Kris.”

“Iwasscared.”

“Slower, please.”

“I WAS SCARED, OKAY?” I shouldn’t have shouted and hearing the quiet echo of my voice tumbling off the walls is not helping.

“O—of me?” And aside from whispering, Adam’s mumbling, too, and it feels like I’m going about this in the worst way possible. I notice that Adam isn’t even touching his fist in pain even though it seems redder than normal. I have to fix things and fast.

“No, baby. Of myself. Because I knew how much you needed me and wanted me and loved me and I feel the same—“

“Then I don’t see what—“

“I loved Katy the same way too, okay? And in the end, I still left her. Let what we had crumble and fall apart. And she never deserved that. You don’t either. So I—“

“You left to what, Kris? To save me from the excessive heartache of being left like that? Well, guess what, Kris. That is EXACTLY. WHAT. YOU. DID. When you left me. Here. Alone. Do you see what you’ve done, Kris?” I know, of course I know. I know I took the coward’s way out. I know I left the only man I’ll ever love in a cabin in the woods because I was scared to repeat past mistakes, scared that my failures will come back to life.

“I was only trying to save you, Adam.”

“Well, next time, talk to me before trying to save me.”

I’m surprised. If I heard correctly then—

“Next time?”

“Yes, next time, Kris. Did leaving me cause you to become deaf or just repetitive?” That causes me to look at him again, look at the face that has been with me since I first saw it years ago in Hollywood. Adam’s smirking and he has twinkle in his eyes. I realize what he’s wearing for the first time and my eyes almost bulge out of my head.

“Adam, baby, is that the shirt I wore when we sang with Cook for _Good Morning America_?” Adam blushes perfectly, really.

“Well, I missed you.”

“I’m here now.” I reach for Adam and take my shirt off him. “You don’t need this anymore.” I pull Adam’s head down and kiss him.

I step away from Adam and smile. “Hmm. Feels just like home.” And Adam pulls me in for a kiss this time. I kiss him back and think, _yeah, just like our last one._

Their reconciliation doesn’t have an epic score playing in the background or an audience clapping, swept up in a moment shared by two people they don’t know. Theirs is a quiet event, a silent rebuilding of trust and rediscovery of each other.

Outside, the snow continues to fall.


End file.
